<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Take Me To The Pilot by Everyone_Every_Ever</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24727450">Take Me To The Pilot</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Everyone_Every_Ever/pseuds/Everyone_Every_Ever'>Everyone_Every_Ever</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Shadowhunters (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Fluff, Insecure Alec Lightwood, M/M, Malec Discord Server WINGO, Wing Grooming, Winged Alec Lightwood, Wingfic</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 02:15:07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,533</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24727450</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Everyone_Every_Ever/pseuds/Everyone_Every_Ever</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Wings, not eyes, are the window to one's soul.</p>
<p>(If that someone is a Shadowhunter.)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>319</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Wingo Summer</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Take Me To The Pilot</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Fill for the "Dirty Wings" Wingo Bingo square.</p>
<p>Much much thanks to AceOnIce for beta-ing this for me! <br/>And much thanks to the Malec discord for being the most supportive server I've ever been in!</p>
<p>(Title from Take Me To The Pilot by Elton John)</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Sun-warmed wings stretched out across the balcony, dusty black and darkening against the setting sun. They were absolutely enormous, seeming to take up the entire space, and then half of the sky. Gentle red sunlight filtered through the soft-looking feathers, casting Magnus into shadow as he quietly stepped outside. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It was the first time he’d seen Alec like this. Of course he had seen the wings- they were a massive, threatening display when Alec fought or flew, but generally they were either glamoured or tucked in close to his body. Never out like this, soaking in the last drops of sunshine. It was a sight to behold- even as dull and boring as Alec touted his wings, seeming to draw them closer to himself in the presence of Isabelle’s glistening blue hues or Jace’s polished gold. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>For now, they barely rustled in the still air, the owner seeming quite fast asleep. So, like any curious feline, Magnus reached over to touch them. They looked like they would be rather soft- Magnus had kept an owl a few centuries ago, and touching the bird had felt like touching the edge of a cloud. No reason why Alec’s feathers would feel different, right?</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Wrong, he realized, as the tip of his finger brushed over the top of his boyfriend’s wing. Instead of soft and light, if maybe slightly oily, he was met with rough, brittle, bone-dry feathering, a bit of dust stuck into the feathers.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He made a face, snapping his fingers to rid his hands of the debris. Had his boyfriend <em>ever </em></span>
  <span>cleaned his wings? It certainly seemed like he hadn't. It wasn't like Alec was usually a mess- while Magnus was somewhat more meticulous appearance wise than most, Alec wouldn't be considered messy or a slob by <em>anyone's </em></span>
  <span>standards. Definitely not fancy, but tidy and clean, as most soldiers trained from birth would be. What could possibly be the reason his wings were so… unkempt? </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Right as he began to ponder, the Shadowhunter stirred. His wings flapped just slightly before drawing in tight, sending quite a few fluffy, downy feathers flying. Alec rose from the sofa he was napping on and spun around, feathers ruffling and wings lifting, obviously on the defensive. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Then, realizing it was just Magnus, he yawned, his feathers settling back down. "Hi, sorry. Just sorta tired, it's sunny." </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Magnus nodded and stepped closer to press a soft kiss to Alec's mouth. "Tired from Shadowhunting?" </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>As he watched, Alec's left wing stretched just a bit, as if to touch Magnus's shoulder, but immediately snapped back as soon as Alec realized what he was doing. "Yeah. I just- sorta fell asleep. Sorry."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>One hand went to cup Alec's face, the other taking his hand. "Not too much to apologize for. I got to see your wings when you <em>aren't </em></span>
  <span>kicking ass for once." Then, with a hesitant half-smile, half-grimace, he asked, "Though, I have to ask- do you ever, well… Preen them?" </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Alec's face immediately became closed off and irritated. "I do! I just-" He stepped close to the edge of the balcony, seeming to consider flying away. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Magnus grabbed his wrist. "Just sit down. I didn't mean that in an… Unpleasant way? Just that they seem like they could use some preening. I can help. I do have magic, after all." </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“They’re fine as they are. You don’t have to fix them. You do a </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span><em>lot</em> of fixing.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p><span>“Okay, I know I don’t <em>have </em>to. B</span>ut one, I want to, because it doesn’t look comfortable. Two, I have a potion brewing in the living room, and dust from who knows where in New York is <em>not </em><span>an ingredient.”</span></p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>After a moment of stubborn staring, Alec gave in, wings relaxing. "Alright."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Magnus hadn't expected him to give in that easy, but he was going to take the win. "Alright. Just- sit, then." As Alec did so, Magnus waved his hands, blue magic trickling from his fingers to pull the particles of dust from Alec’s feathers, incinerating them in midair as they fell. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Then, Magnus reached out, running a hand along the edge of the feathers. While they were still rough and dry, they were at least clean. Alec shook them heartily, just about smacking Magnus in the nose in the process. “Better?” the warlock asked, pushing softly on one dark wing so he could see his boyfriend’s face. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“<em>Much. </em></span>
  <span>I haven’t bothered preening them in… A little while.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“A little while being twenty years?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Alec rolled his eyes hard enough that he must have seen Raziel in heaven. “No, a little while just being- I just haven’t gotten around to it for a couple weeks. Everything’s been so chaotic.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Feathers look a bit dry.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Again, everything’s been so chaotic, and I just don’t like putting the oil on.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Magnus took a guess as to what that meant. “Maybe you- or whoever does your feathers, I suppose- aren’t doing it right? Being too rough, maybe?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“It isn’t that it feels bad, just… I don’t like when they’re oiled. How they look.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Odd. Especially when Shadowhunters seemed to have a fair amount of pride in their wings. "Why not?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The wings beat behind Alec- not enough to take off, not nearly, but enough that a pitcher of lemonade that had been sitting nearby fell off the table. The Shadowhunter’s face immediately fell further, and he turned, mumbled something about getting a towel, and headed into the loft. Magnus distractedly waved a hand, clearing the glass and juice from the floor.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It took a moment for Alec to come back outside- but, when he did, he wasn't holding a towel. Instead, he held a large black feather tight to his chest. Even from a distance, he could tell it was much glossier than Alec's dusty black plumage. Certainly healthier, if he recalled anything about bird feathers. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Alec held it out, one hand stroking along the vane, the other tightly clenching the shaft. Magnus took it softly, careful to not damage the barbs, though it took a second for Alec to let go of it.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He drew it closer to himself, one finger running over the rachis. Barely even touching it. It was very slightly oiled, black as midnight, and somehow as soft as down along the edges. He could imagine how, in the middle of the night, the pitch black wings it belonged to would be invisible and silent, deadly and unseen. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Then, a glint of sun hit it. And, instead of deep, impossible blackness, it was a rainbow of colors. Purples and blues, shifting to red and orange, then green-yellow. Only for a second. But the array of colors was beyond beautiful to Magnus, and he was speechless for a moment. It was like seeing a rainbow after a heavy storm, the comfort of knowing that the darkness would give way to warmth in the end. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Is this yours?" Magnus asked, voice hushed as he stared at the now-dark feather in his hands.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Alec nodded. "Not exactly what's expected. So, I just don't really oil them."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I think it's quite handsome. Very you." Magnus looked at Alec's wings, picturing what they'd look like, properly taken care of, in the morning. If the sunlight glinting off of those hidden hues would bounce onto the wall in an array of colors, or if it would be private, personal, a spectacle only for those near him to appreciate. Or how they'd look with the light of Magnus's magic hitting them, if they'd absorb that dim light or turn it into something gorgeous. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>With one eyebrow cocked, eyes squinted a bit in confusion, Alec questioned, "How's that? Not exactly… a Shadowhunter thing, to have wings like that."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Isabelle's wings are similar. More vibrant, but similar." </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>That earned him a laugh, at least. "Izzy's Izzy. She doesn't give a damn. But…"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Maybe you shouldn't give a damn, either. You've stopped caring what people think about you being not-so-straight haven't you? It's merely another thing that's just <em>you</em></span>
  <span>." </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Because, truly, they fit Alexander. Dark, deep enough to get lost in, if all you saw was the surface. But deeper… Deeper was silky soft edges and beautiful light. Something less warrior, more heartfelt, more feeling.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I love them.” Plain and simple. Not Alec- not yet. But something so him that it felt like holding a heartbeat where the feather laid in his palm. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>For a second, he worried he’d misspoke- maybe his words twisted in Alec’s mind, enough that he’d assume Magnus was moving far too fast. But then, “Can you help me? Fix them, I mean? I think they’re a bit too damaged to manage myself.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>A grin split Magnus’s face. An excuse to bury his face in the fluffy down? Of course he’d take it. Plus, maybe his boyfriend would let him experiment with some shed downy feathers? </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>With a flourish of his hand, a vial of oil and a bottle of wine appeared on the coffee table and the balcony doors swung open. Magnus tucked the feather behind his ear, took Alec’s hand, and led him inside. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>If wing-fixing just so <em>happened </em></span>
  <span>to turn into making out on the sofa… Well.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>No one had to know. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you so so much for reading! </p>
<p>Tumblr: mothman-of-teslonia</p></blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>